By Kerri Hart
“So you’re going to grow mushrooms, eh?” Wink, wink. I’d say that’s the most common response I hear upon telling someone that I intend to start growing fungi in my basement garage. After I’ve informed them that I have no intention of cultivating so-called “magic mushrooms”, they quickly lose interest in the topic. Occasionally, someone will be kind enough to offer further commentary: “Mushrooms. Huh. I didn’t realize you were that nerdy. ” Well, er, apparently I am. I assure you, I didn’t plan on becoming enthralled with fungi. For the first 45 years of my life I had a normal level of interest in fungi (none), and then a few semesters ago I took Biology 192 here at Boise State. The class was split between two professors, one of whom was Dr. Merlin White. The professor for the first half of the term was young, okay-looking and ever-so-slightly arrogant, in the way of many a young buck with an advanced degree. He wore skinny jeans and made cool, ironic jokes. He likely was not into mushrooms. Not like Dr. White, anyway. Small, wiry, bespectacled and nerdy to a point that he seemed a caricature of himself, Merlin was the antithesis of Dr. Hipster. He loves fungi- specifically, the microscopic variety that inhabit the guts of aquatic insects. He is Canadian. Did I mention his name is Merlin? He talked about fungi at any opportunity. He made corny, self-conscious jokes, and he said “aboot” rather than “about”. His passion for mushrooms was so endearing that I felt compelled to take his Mycology class the next semester. I predicted the class would be mildly interesting, but mostly I looked forward to three more months of Dr. White’s mycologist-meets-Dad jokes. I was not disappointed. His class was fascinating and frequently hilarious- sometimes intentionally. One of his requirements was that we collect and identify wild mushrooms. So one rainy morning last September I gathered the necessary foraging accoutrements (including my three dogs, should I wander into a Deliverance-type scenario), and headed into the forests of Boise County. I’m not entirely sure what happened next. I have a vague memory of stumbling intemperately about, frantically cramming helpless mushrooms into tiny paper bags. But I do know that after my first foray into the woods in search of specimens, I was hopelessly in love (with fungi, not Merlin).
Now, I suppose you’re wondering what sort of peculiar little person would find mushrooms remotely interesting. I know, I know, but humor me here. There exists an endless assortment of bizarre-looking fungi around us. There are mushrooms that burst from the ground with octopus-like tentacles (Clathrus archeri), that resemble a bird’s nest with eggs (Nidulariales spp.), others that look like shriveled ears, coral, chicken eggs, cauliflower, and even one rather ghastly specimen that smells like death and looks like the male reproductive organ of a canid- the Dog Stinkhorn. Perhaps the largest living organism on the planet is a fungus growing just over the border in Oregon. It’s an Armillaria that covers over 2,200 acres in the Malheur National Forest, and though its mushrooms are edible, they are not highly regarded (Arora 196). Most mushrooms, in fact, are safe for human consumption- but many are not palatable. Some quite delicious species, such as Coprinus, contain a compound similar to that in Antabuse (the drug given to alcoholics that induces uncontrolled vomiting if they ingest alcohol), so should not be cooked in or served alongside one’s favorite wine. (Though the perfect remedy for ridding oneself of the dinner guest who has overstayed his welcome). One reason there exists such a “mycophobia” (as Stamets puts it) in Western society is the unpredictable way fungi can interact with our digestive systems. Some mushrooms will cause gastric upset in a small percentage of people, some in a large percentage of people (but not all), some cause distress in some people some of the time (but not always), and some mushrooms can be enjoyed in small doses by some individuals, but those same people will become quite nauseous if they consume a plateful of the fungus. And that’s not even considering the mushrooms that are bona fide poisonous, which will quite likely kill any person who eats them any quantity. The diabolical irony of the truly toxic fungi is that they usually cause no stomach upset, no nausea, no diarrhea- until the kidneys and liver have begun to fail, and by then it’s often too late. Some species of Gyromitra (which closely resemble the revered morel) contain a carcinogenic compound used in the manufacture of rocket fuel. The cooking fumes alone will cause illness (Arora 893). This brings me to another little-known fact about our fungal friends: they should never, ever be eaten raw. Why uncooked mushrooms continue to remain a staple of every bacteria-laden, hepatitis-infused, snot-splattered salad bar in the country escapes me. Fungi are not plants, not even a sister or cousin or distant aunt to plants. Plants branched off the evolutionary tree millions of years before fungi and animals, which evolved together for quite some time before going their separate ways (Kendrick 4). Fungi do not have the cellulose cell walls of plants. Their cells are made of chitin- the material that makes up the exoskeletons of crabs and insects. As such, the nutrients possessed by fungi are not available to us unless heated to break down the chitin. And mushrooms are loaded with nutrients. Many, such as Lion’s Mane and Oyster, have protein contents of 25-30%- the same as pork and tuna (Cotter 295). They are full of fiber, niacin, riboflavin and trace minerals, and have no cholesterol (Kendrick 281). Humans aren’t the only animals that enjoy eating mushrooms. Deer, cattle, pigs and squirrels often compete with humans for the tasty fungi (Arora 26). Fungus is also used to make dyes, to filter water, to rehabilitate landscapes, to treat ailments, and, of the hallucinogenic species, as an antidote to reality. And though I will be cultivating fungus in my basement, it will not be the psilocybins. I have no interest in further confounding my somewhat vague interpretation of existence. I also might add a word of warning: Idaho is one of only three states wherein it is illegal to possess even the spores of psilocybin mushrooms (37). The lawmakers of the great State of Idaho, in their unfailing wisdom, have thrust this unassuming little brown fungus (that grows everywhere) into the same category as methamphetamine, heroin and flakka. I’ll leave it at that.
Though I thoroughly enjoyed the Mycology class, the focus was mainly on microscopic fungi, and my interest is firmly in the macroscopic variety. For me, fungus has one noble purpose: to be sautéed in wine and served alongside any of a number of delicious foodstuffs. But the supermarket offerings are middling, boring, the same ol’ stuff. I’m tired of the ubiquitous buttons and Shiitakes. I don’t really care for Chanterelles, and anyway, they’re obscenely expensive in Idaho. My very favorite mushroom, the morel, adamantly refuses cultivation. Cheeky bugger. Morels are also tough to find in the forest, the competition is fierce, and frankly, I’m too lazy to spend my springtime days hunting fungus. Yet I find mushrooms fascinating (and often delicious), and I’d love to have a steady supply of them, regardless of season or willingness to hike. I suppose it follows then, that I find myself intrigued with the idea of growing my own mushrooms. My husband helpfully points out that most of my plants die a slow, wretched death. I counter by reminding him that our son and pets are thriving, and since fungi are more closely related to animals than to plants, I should be able to pull this off. I mean, they’re pretty much like dogs, but without the barking and the hair (exception: Panis rudis, the Hairy Cap mushroom. Shudder). I’ve been toying with the idea of growing my own mushrooms for a year now, but I suppose it’s time to stop thinking and start doing. Now, it’s not as if I’m jumping into this completely blind, more like nearsighted. I did grow several Grey Dove Oyster mushrooms from a kit provided by Merlin. Initially, in my usual delusions of competency, I planned (okay, there was no planning involved) to grow only the rare varieties. I mean, it seemed a bit pedestrian to settle for plain ol’ white button mushrooms when I’ve taken Mycology. I’m practically a professional! And then I started my research.
This might be ever so slightly more complex than I’d envisioned. Apparently, there’s a reason mushrooms are expensive and that not everyone is a farmer of fungi. There are numerous books, websites and forums dedicated to the cultivation of fungi, but the two people whose names come up repeatedly are Tradd Cotter and Paul Stamets. Since the amount of information available is staggering (and intimidating), I decided to base the majority of my research on the books by these two highly regarded men. Stamets’ seminal book, Growing Gourmet and Medicinal Mushrooms (2000) is geared more toward people with some experience, so I opted to read Cotter first. In Organic Mushroom Farming and Mycoremediation (2014), Cotter uses plain language and advises beginners to “start with the easiest varieties…using whatever is on hand” (31). I take inventory and I realize I will definitely be starting small- and simple. I do have a partially underground garage, metal shelving units, a pressure cooker for sterilization, lights, a space heater and a humidifier. Cotter also utilizes a simple system that rates the difficulty of cultivating various edible and medicinal mushrooms. He uses a 1-5 scale to rank the ease of growing, with 5 being “most difficult”. The overconfident part of my brain is immediately attracted to the 5 rating. I see it as a double-dog dare, and I’ve yet to reject a double-dog, but finally decide to only consider those species that rate a 1 or two. I flip through Cotter’s book and manage to whittle the contenders to six edible varieties. The winners are: King Stropharia, Lion’s Mane, Brick Top, White Elm, Shiitake and Oyster.
Thankfully, the miniscule clever part of my brain recognized I needed to winnow this list to one. First though, allow me to define some terms for those of you who have better things to do than read up on really cool fungal literature (though I struggle to think of anything). Though this is a grave insult to fungi, for ease of understanding let’s compare fungi to plants. In such a case, spores=seeds, mycelium=plant body, mushrooms=fruit, and spawn is the fungal equivalent of a seedling. Mushroom spawn is like the baby plants in the 4-inch pots you buy at the store every spring because it’s too much work to deal with seeds. There are several methods one could employ to start growing mushrooms. By far the easiest (and often least expensive), is to purchase spawn (Pleasant). Cotter (37) points out this method saves weeks of time and insures a proven product that can resist contamination. Given the recommendation that beginners start simply, I initially elect to “settle” for what is almost universally considered the easiest mushroom to cultivate- the Oyster. I don’t think I consulted a single book, article or website that didn’t endorse the genus Pleurotus as the very best for beginners. Stamets states, “Few other mushrooms demonstrate such adaptability, aggressiveness, and productivity as these species”(282), and Cotter writes that “Given their ubiquitousness, fast-fruiting time and tolerance of mistreatment, Oysters are the perfect mushroom for beginners” (329). But there are a few downsides to Oysters as well. For starters, I don’t particularly care for them. Unless cooked with precision, they have a mouth-feel reminiscent of Silly Putty (double-dog dare in third grade). They generate a spore load so heavy as to present a health hazard to growers (Mori). Pleurotus also have a short shelf life for those trying to market them, and they prove irresistible to several obnoxious types of flies. (“Oyster Mushroom Cultivation”). I think what ultimately did it for me however, is the Oyster’s wanton carelessness regarding which substrates on which it will grow. To use a rather charmless term- these fungi are gutter sluts. They are well-known to merrily fruit on just about anything. They easily grow on straw, logs, grain, corn husks, toilet paper, coffee grounds, old t-shirts, cardboard, furniture, and diesel-soaked soil. They will even grow in a bag filled with human hair (Stamets, Mycelium Running 90). I don’t know about you, but I cannot trust (and most certainly will not eat) anything that thrives on the filthy filaments of deceased keratin that sprout from our heads. Oysters are out.
It doesn’t take much further reading to discover that though Shiitakes are considered a “beginner’s mushroom” (Zerbe), when grown outside on logs, indoors they are quite another matter, requiring a sterile environment and therefore, expensive equipment (Cotter 309). I next look closely at my second-favorite mushroom, Lion’s Mane. I admit going into this a strong prejudice in favor of this beautiful, snow-white fungi that looks like icicles. I have collected it near my house (actually, its close cousin, Bear’s Head), and found it does indeed have a “sweet and fragrant taste similar to lobster” (Volk). But the high humidity requirements combined with my subterranean grow space are less than ideal (read: insects). Until I can build a cleaner environment, Lion’s Head is off the table. Next on my list is the Brick Top, which Cotter describes as “nutty and crunchy” (Cotter 299). It seemed however, that nearly every other source described it either as “bitter” (Kuo), or “considered in inedible in Europe” (“Hypholoma sublateritium.”). I think I’ll pass on Brick Tops for now. I look into King Stropharia next. Cotter (347) describes its flavor as “like potatoes cooked in wine”, but admits that its very slow gestation period indoors renders it only realistically suitable for outdoor cultivation. I’m left then, with members of the genus Hypsizygus.
Hypsizygus mushrooms are commonly referred to as the “Beech mushrooms” and contain two species of note, both of which are often colloquially referred to as “Elm Oyster” (no relation to the aforementioned gutter sluts). They are in fact two quite different fungi, and since their Japanese and Latin names don’t quite roll off American tongues, I’ll refer to them by the English translation of their Japanese common names- the White Elm and Mountain Echo. They are highly prized in Japan, both for their culinary and medicinal properties. But of greatest interest to me is that Cotter (301) rates them a “1” in ease of cultivation. Stamets (252) reports they will as happily grow in glass jars (the preferred method in Japan) as on elm trees. They are considered nearly as easy to cultivate as Oysters, and both Stamets and Cotter consider their flavor to be superior. Stamets describes the flavor of Mountain Echo to be “mildly sweet and nutty”(253), while Cotter describes White Elm as “meaty, with a mild anise-like flavor”(304). I also admit I’m more inclined to eat a mushroom that is more likely to be found growing on a tree in my yard than in a bag of hair. And so in my quest to find a suitable farmable fungal friend and future food, I arrive at the Hypsizygus. We’ll call them Hyps.
Before I drop everything and buy 50 pounds of spawn, I examine Cotter’s factors of cultivation. For ease of indoor cultivation, Cotter rates Hyps a “1” and Peter McCoy of Radical Mycology states they are “comparable to Oysters in aggressive growth and ease of cultivation” (e-mail). They have a broad tolerance of substrate, temperature and humidity (Stamets 251-3), and their time to yield is three to four weeks, per both Cotter and Stamets. Lastly, Hyps require very little in the way of infrastructure- in fact, I won’t need to purchase a single item other than spawn in order to grow several pounds (hopefully) of mushrooms.
I’ve really enjoyed this journey of fungal nerdiness. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed that my treasured Lion’s Mane was not a suitable Chosen One. Its beauty and mild flavor are tough to resist, but it will have to wait until I’ve gotten the hang of this mushroom cultivation thing. Yet I’m also glad I didn’t take the conventional route and choose to grow the dirty whores, er, Oysters. I’m looking forward to trying my hand at growing the Hyps, and still more excited to eat them in risotto. I envision this will be a fun adventure, and as long as I never find a Hyp sprouting from the ever-present hair in my shower drain, I dare say this will be a beautiful friendship.
Works Cited
Arora, David. Mushrooms Demystified. Berkeley: TenSpeed Press, 1986. Print.
Cotter, Tradd. Organic Mushroom Farming and Mycoremediation. White River Junction: Chelsea Green, 2014. Print.
“Hypholoma sublateritium”. Wikipedia: the Free Encyclopedia. Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. 14 Mar. 2014. Web. 15 Sep. 2015.
37 Idaho Revised Statute. Sec. 37-2705. State of Idaho Legislature, 2014. Web. 21 November 2015.
Kendrick, Bryce. The Fifth Kingdom. Newburyport: Focus Publishing, 1992. Print.
Kuo, M.” Hypholoma sublateritium”. The Mushroom Expert. February, 2014. Web. 17 September, 2015.
McCoy, Peter. “Re: Mushroom Cultivation Links.” Message to the author. 24 September, 2015. E-mail.
Mori, S., et al.” Mushroom worker’s lung resulting from indoor cultivation of Pleurotus osteatus.” Occupational Medicine, Vol. 48. (1998): 455-58. Web. 16 September, 2015.
“Oyster Mushroom Cultivation.” Aloha Medicinals. Mushworld. 2004. Web. 23 September, 2015.
Pleasant, Barbara. “Grow Your Own Mushrooms”. Mother Earth News. Ogden Publications. October/November, 2004. Web. 24 September, 2015.
Stamets, Paul. Mycelium Running: How Mushrooms Can Help Save the World. Berkeley: TenSpeed Press, 2005. Print.
—. Growing Gourmet and Medicinal Mushrooms. Berkeley: TenSpeed Press, 2000. Print
Volk, Tom. “Tom Volk’s Fungus of the Month.” Tom Volk Fungi. University of Wisconsin-LaCrosse. January, 2003. Web. 24 September, 2015.
Zerbe, Leah. “Grow Shiitake Mushrooms.” Rodale’s Organic Life. Rodale’s, Inc. 14 April, 2015. Web. 20 September, 2015.